


what ear to our sobbing hearts

by Her



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Physical Abuse, Very explicit and as a running theme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her/pseuds/Her
Summary: He is still beautiful now, even as his eyebrows furrow and he bites his bottom lip. Everyone always said he had been born lucky, a handsome boy, always.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags!!!

Judith's called to the school on one of the days she and her husband are actually in town. A missing girl, Judith's son in the middle of it, a party and drinking. He had a girl in his room.

“I truly apologise for my son's actions, officers,” she says calmly as they get up to leave, “my husband will take care of him, make sure this never happens again.”

Steve winces, and one of the officers raises an eyebrow, and for a short second his face shows concern.

“Your boy isn't in trouble, ma'am.”

.

The car ride is tense and silent when they get in. Judith glares determinedly at the road in front of her, hoping not a word will be spoken until they've reached their destination. But as always, he disappoints her.

“Please, don't tell him.”

The plea is soft, and barely heard over the engine. It rings in her ears. She flashes him a quick glance, then her eyes are immediately back on the road.

But the image of her son hunched up on himself, his eyes wide, _begging_ , hands scrunching up the hem of his sweater. It's printed across her vision.

He was born beautiful, like her. Lucky.

She flicks on the windshield wipers as a few drops of rain come down. It's not even necessary, but she needs something to do.

“ _Please_ , mom,” Steven says, slightly louder this time, but still weak.

He is still beautiful now, even as his eyebrows furrow and he bites his bottom lip. Everyone always said he had been born lucky, a handsome boy, always.

“Put on your seatbelt, Steven,” she says simply.

Her son inhales, a ragged, broken sound.And she can recognise, as she steals another glance at him, the look of bone-deep defeat. 

She knows. She was born beautiful like him, born fearful and dumb into a world where no one loved her, and she had passed those genes onto him too.

“How could you ask me to hide this from your father? I'll be telling him about this conversation too.”

And when he pleads her for some mercy or some love, and she denies him it so easily? She realises she was born callous and cruel too. And she wonders whether her dumb, open hearted son will eventually learn the same.

But she hears a quick intake of breath, a shuddered breath out, and knows he won't.

He's too weak.

.

She doesn't falter in her resolve to tell Robert what happened. Sends Steven up to his room as if he were a child and waits for her husband to get home.

When he does she serves dinner and explains the situation, explains how their son had dishonestly asked for it to be hidden.

Robert is ugly in his anger.

He calls Steven down, and just for a moment, right before her beautiful boy enters, she doubts. But this has all happened before, and it is too late now to change what they are.

“You can go, Judith,” her husband says once Steven has walked in, voice less harsh towards her.

And she does, but pauses at the doorway. After all, part of this is her doing.

Robert begins unbuckling his belt, snaps out, “take off your shirt.”

But their boy seemingly cannot.

“Please, please dad, I'm sorry, I won't-” there is a soft tremor in the boy's hands, but his voice is not shaking.

"Don't. Beg,” Robert barks, winding the belt around his hand, then shakes his head, “always such a sissy.”

Steven's eyes are glazed over now, but it seems he realises there is no way out of it. His shaking hands fumble to take his shirt off, so much so that Judith finds herself wanting to walk over and help.

Robert watches coldly, and she thinks, then, that she hates him. But then, she herself is standing aside and watching. Both watching as their son struggles to remove his shirt. As he finally does and stands there, arms wrapped around his bare torso and wet eyes wide.

Robert pulls out a chair, and Steven has done this enough times that he walks over to it unprompted.

Before he gets down on it, there is a moment where he looks up at his father, and Judith can see another plea forming on his lips. But it's gone then, no point in trying, and she turns away as he gets down and straddles the seat, back rest between his legs, hands clenched tightly on it.

She doesn't leave quick enough before Robert strikes down, and she makes out her son's whimper.

Locked in her room, she eventually hears the whimpers turn to screams. 

She gets out the first aid kit and waits, clutching it tightly, until she can go downstairs to help mend what she's partly responsible for.  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer 1: I don't actually think Steve's home life is this bad. I just had a bad few days and i wanna write some h/c  
> Disclaimer 2: this chptr is from Steve's mom's POV so obviously she justifies herself but I myself don't think she's a good person or agree with any of her actions.  
> Chapter 2 will be set in season 2 probs


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags

Steve should've excused himself. He should've told Dustin he was sick. His body feels shaky and rough, every bit of movement's like a dizzying whirlwind, and every slight shift of cloth scratches at his skin. 

And yet here he is, driving a preteen around and listening to him spout nonsense about something he can't understand. 

The problem is, he's finding it really hard to do the driving bit. the wheel feels too cold in his grip, and the view in front of him shifts and blurs into greens and greys. 

He feels a little jolt of confusing panic and blinks quickly and

“Steve. Steve!”

His gaze veers to the right, where Dustin is grabbing his arm and shaking it, and then to Dustins face, full of concern.

“What,” he manages.

“Jesus!” screams the kid, “are you alright, man?”

“What… yeah?” it comes out as a question, but that's because he's fucking confused. He turns back to the road in front of him and realises there is none; he's apparently veered off to the side without noticing. The car has come to a stop.

“What happened?” Dustin all but screams.

“I dunno…” 

“I think you passed out. Shit!”

“Language,” Steve half-heartedly admonishes, but that does make sense. Maybe he's coming down with something.

“We're almost there,” Dustin says, and lets go of his tight grip on Steve's arm, “maybe we should walk the rest of the ways.”

Steve looks back over to him and frowns, thinking. The Byers house is only a ten minute walk from where they've stopped. It's a miracle that his momentary blackout didn't kill them.

He can't risk it. Not with a thirteen year old on board. He nods.

The walk is torture. Besides Dustins unwavering concern for him and thousands of questions about how and why he passed out, Steve finds it terribly hard to move without spinning. 

When they get to the house and he realises he'll have to ask Mrs Byers, or worse, Jonathan, for a lift back home, he almost dumps Dustin and runs back to the car.

But instead, he lets the kid guide him by the arm into the house, where already Will and El and jumping up to greet them.

“Dustin.”

“We're starting a new campaign!”

“Steve passed out!” Dustin announces grandly, “I need to make sure he's ok first.”

Steve rolls his eyes as the kids stare him curiously. _That_ makes his head throb painfully. Mike looks over from the couch he's not gotten up out of and says, “tell Will's mom.”

“Uh, I know. I was gonna,” Dustin scoffs, then pulls at Steve to follow him.

“You know I can walk, right?” Steve says, “and tell her myself?”

But Dustin seems to derive glee from taking care of him, and just keeps pulling him on.

Steve lets him. He feels warm where the kid is grabbing his arm tightly. Probably cause it's so damn cold this time of year.

They find Mrs Byers and the chief sitting in the kitchen table, huddled close to each other and giggling like schoolgirls, and Steve tries to pull Dustin back. They're intruding. But the sudden change in direction dizzies him further, and he almost topples onto Dustin.

The small commotion alerts the adults of their presence. Hopper stands up abruptly, stutters out a coughed, “Steve, Dustin.” and Mrs Byers grins at them almost manically. Her cheeks are bright red.

Dustin, of course, has not noticed a thing. “Steve's sick and he was driving and he passed out but it's ok though, we didn't crash but we don't know what's wrong with him and we need your help.”

And if he didn't feel so embarrassed by that, Steve would just be impressed that the kid managed it in one breath.

As it is, he shrugs a shoulder, _ouch_ , and mumbles, “I'm ok. I just need a lift home.”

Mrs Byers just rounds the table and comes to stand in front of him. Then she grabs his head, so softly, with both her hands. They gently pull so his head will come lower, and she _kisses_ his forehead.

Her lips are cool and her hands freezing but Steve wants them to stay, his eyes close tightly and he wants her to keep holding him, but she lets go then, pulls back, and he feels his chest hurt and gravel cut his throat all at once at the lack of contact.

“Honey, you're burning up,” she says, her features twisting with worry. She turns to Hopper, “we gotta get him to a doctor.”

“No,” Steve's head feels clear all of a sudden.

They all turn to him.

“I, uh, just need a lift home.”

“You need a doctor, kiddo,” Mrs Byers says warmly.

“It's ok, I'm ok, I promise,” he tries again.

But Hopper shakes his head in amusement and grabs his keys from the table. 

Dustin says, “come one, man.”

“I'm serious!” this time it comes out a bit angry, because why aren't they listening to him? “Look. It's fine. I'll walk.”

He turns away just as Hopper walks over. “Let's get you to a doctor, kid,” he says.

Then he claps Steve on the back, _hard_ , friendly, but.

But Steve _yelps_. He flinches forward so violently he only just manages not to fall. 

He grabs on to Dustin, then, who helps him onto a chair. His back stings badly. Won't stop, he knows, for at least a few minutes. He puts his face to his hands and grits his teeth, not thinking about his audience, just wanting it to stop.

There are hands on his wrists then, and he recoils, but they're so gentle. And they're rubbing around and around, tiny circles. He slowly moves his hands away from his eyes and comes face to face with Mrs Byers.

At that, she smiles, “Steve, honey,” she says softly, so softly, “you're ok. Let us take a look at you, ok? There's something wrong.”

Steve doesn't know what she means. Of course there's something wrong. Always is. He nods quickly and presses his palms to his eyes when that makes the room spin round.

He doesn't understand what she meant, so he barely feels it when hands grab the hem of his sweater, not when they pull up on it. Only when the cool air hits his bare back does he realise what they've done.

A hand tightens on his arm. Tight enough that it hurts, a bit. And he puts down his hands again and sees it's Dustin’s. 

Steve feels like all the air has gone out of his lungs, just like that, at the look on Dustin’s face.

Heartbroken. And disgusted, he looks.

He pulls away quickly from his grip, from Hopper’s hands on his sweater, and away from Mrs Byers.

He stands. He wobbles, but he stands. Backs away from them. “It's ok. I can walk home.”

“No,” the chief says, stony, sad, “no, kid, you're staying right here.”

Steve shakes his head desperately, “I'm ok.”

“You're not ok.” Mrs Byers is angry, and Steve thinks of her cool hands on his face and wants, for the first time in a long time, to cry. 

“I _am_ -” he insists, but she hisses back, “your whole back is infected. That's why you're feverish and that's why you fainted.”

“Oh.” He says. He doesn't know why he didn't realise that before. “My mom. My… she usually cleans it.” She was too angry this time.

Mrs Byers’ face crumples a bit at that.  
“Ok,” she whispers, “ok, well, you're not going anywhere.”

“We should get you to a doctor,” says Hopper, but Steve shakes his head again, almost oblivious to the dizziness right now. 

“I can't go. Please.”

The chief looks upwards for a few seconds, then at Mrs Byers, who looks deflated.

She says, “antibiotics. And I need to clean that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this ends mid scene, but I'm falling asleep and I know I won't be able to write for a few days cos I'll be busy, so shrug emoji


End file.
